


in life (and love), revised.

by mandathegreat



Series: Banquet AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Fluff and Humor, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Sexting, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-11 14:34:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11150427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandathegreat/pseuds/mandathegreat
Summary: He was in love. He thought it with such clarity that his first jump was over and landed before he could even think about it. He was in love with Viktor and it didn't matter that most of their interactions had been over a phone. It didn’t matter that Viktor was a four-time world champion, it didn’t matter that he had decorated Yuuri’s bedroom walls for the better part of a decade--none of that mattered any more.





	in life (and love), revised.

**Author's Note:**

> Please view with work skin, or you'll see jumbled html instead of texts. Thank.
> 
> Also, if there are any glaring typos, I apologize. I have long acrylics on (bc aesthetic) and i'm typing this on a sticky macbook keyboard also i'm on hella cold medicine.
> 
> I was so flattered by a lot of requests to continue this AU so here y'all thirsty people

Suddenly, Yuuri’s world became full of new passions. What had become of the fire in him when he stepped on the ice? Yuuri didn’t know when he had lost that hope, that drive, but it had returned with a force as he threw himself into practice. Celestino was equal parts proud of him, and terrified at the hours he spent at the rink. He had only a few short weeks before the Japanese Nationals, and Yuuri was going to win. He had to win.

It was the only way he would be guaranteed to see Viktor again. And Viktor, well, he was the new source of his passion. He began to feel new inspiration in the tired programs that Celestino had choreographed for him, and he took them from cliched and boring to new and exciting territory. It was what Viktor would do, if he had programs like Yuuri’s--which he didn’t, because Viktor always choreographed his own music, and played to his strengths.

They had gotten to know each other in the weeks after the Grand Prix, in any form of communication they could manage. It wasn’t easy--They were seven hours apart, so they talked just before Yuuri went to bed, as Viktor was waking up in the morning, and getting ready. Yuuri would be changing into pajamas, listening to Viktor hum as he made himself coffee before practice, and he silently wished he could be there, watching him pour sugar and milk into his cup as he lost the silent battle to wrap him in a hug and make him late to practice.

Yuuri finally understood why long distance relationships were so hard. But, Viktor never seemed to be too busy to ask him things, to send him pictures of his rinkmates, his dog, or a bird he saw that reminded him of Yuuri. Phichit teased him incessantly for keeping his phone close at the rink, something Yuuri never used to do, watching as he’d scramble to answer Viktor’s random questions, even when they flustered him.

Viktor Nikiforov  
  
What’s your favorite color?  
  
...blue  
  
...is that for any particular reason?  
  
it’s the color of your eyes.  
  
Yuuuuuuri <3 <3 <3  
  


…

Celestino found out about him and Viktor, partially because they weren’t hiding it, and also because Yakov had called Celestino and told him that Yuuri had better not be a distraction to his star pupil. 

He wasn’t as mad as Yuuri thought he’d be. After a few questions, he decided he didn’t care, as long as Yuuri continued to be so dedicated to improving, and as long as Yuuri didn’t mind competing with someone he cared for.

And he didn’t. He was looking forward to competing on the ice as equals.

…

Viktor Nikiforov  
  
Photo: Makkachin.jpeg  
  
I love her <3 <3  
  
She loves you <3  
  
Silly, we haven’t even met yet.  
  
You’ll meet her soon.  
  


…

Soon, the short amount of time between the Grand Prix and the Japanese Nationals came to an end. Yuuri found himself on a plane again with Celestino, who was trying his best to be a calm coach so Yuuri didn’t freak out.

Which, of course didn’t help. Yuuri was freaking out.

They arrived a few days early, to get used to the time change, and so Yuuri could practice. He spent the few days in Tokyo, letting the wave of familiar language wash over him and fill him with comfort that he rarely had anymore. 

Minako and Mari had come out to see him, and they spent a day just catching up, Mari smacking him on the arm for not “calling her the second you kissed that idol of yours,” and Minako laughed as Yuuri blushed to the tips of his ears.

For what it was worth, according to Mari, their mother was incredibly proud of Yuuri, for a lot of reasons, but especially for landing “such a cutie.”

Yuuri imagined Viktor in his parents’ onsen, wearing a thin robe, which would be perfect, because he loved to show off his body anyway. His father would be overjoyed that there was a pretty foreigner in their inn--maybe he’d attract customers. His mother would cook everything she knew how to, so happy to have her boy home, and--even better, to have him bring back someone he lov--

No. It was too early for that word. It was too early to even think it.

…

He watched Viktor win the Russian Nationals in the lobby of the hotel. The Russian Nationals were only a few days before the Japanese Nationals, and Yuuri was overcome with emotion as he watched Viktor skate Stammi Vicino again, and he saw how much better it was in a few short weeks. The emotions were stronger, louder--he could feel the longing and desperation for someone, and he felt tears roll down his cheeks.

Was he thinking of Yuuri? 

The thought hung out in his head all night, and he tossed and turned as anxiety corrupted his thoughts. Instead of being insecure in his relationship with Viktor, as he feared he might, he began to get worked up about the competition instead.  
The thoughts were horrible. Yuuri couldn’t explain the feeling of emptiness and nausea that they created in his body. He thought about when he was a child, telling his mother, “My brain doesn’t like me,” like she’d get it. She tried, but she never did.

Would Viktor understand? Had he ever been plagued with poison thoughts like Yuuri? HE doubted it, but he felt his hands reach out for his phone, to the contact marked Viktor <3\. It was 11:00 PM in Moscow, where Viktor was for Nationals.

Viktor <3  
  
Can I call you?  
  
Of course solnishko  
  


He dialed, and Viktor picked up almost instantly.

“Hello!” His voice was tired, clearly, but not annoyed.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late.” Yuuri said. “I really wanted to hear your voice.”

“It’s alright. I wanted to hear you too. It’s early there, isn’t it.”

Yuuri looked at the clock. “It’s around 5 AM. I couldn’t sleep very well. I watched the Russian Nationals. You did really well.”

“Thank you. I was thinking of you.” He yawned, and Yuuri felt himself smiling.

“I hoped so.”

“Why can’t you sleep, zvezda?” Viktor asked, and Yuuri wished he could see his face so he’d know how to respond,

Honesty is the best policy. “I-I’m just really nervous about tomorrow. What if I flop all over again?” He said in a quick burst.

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was sincere. “You’re not going to flop. And even if you do, then you do. The world turns. I still adore you. But, you’re going to be great. I can feel it.”

“How do you know that? I always get so nervous. Do you?” Yuuri felt like a child, but Viktor humored him.

“The whole morning of my senior debut, I threw up for hours, I was so nervous.”

Yuuri’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“Yes. It was important that I did well. I needed sponsors, and the prize money. And, it meant something to me, to prove myself worthy of being there. I stopped being nervous when I started to lose my inspirations. But, I have a new source of creativity.”

Yuuri blushed. “Were you nervous yesterday?”

“Yes. I was terrified. It meant a lot to me this time. It had to be perfect for you.”

“Viktor--”

“When you skate tomorrow, you need to show the world what’s inside your heart. Skate to the music you make with your soul.”

“I will. Will you be watching?”

“Of course.”

“Then, don’t take your eyes off me.” Yuuri flushed, in the dark of his hotel room.

“I wouldn’t dream of i--” Viktor started, but was cut off in another yawn.

“Go to sleep, Viktor.” Yuuri laughed.

“Okay, zvezda.”

They hung up, and Yuuri let himself finally fall asleep.

…

Celestino made Yuuri read a lot of self help books. Yuuri distinctly remembered one stating that if you don’t remember a performance, it’s because you threw your heart into it, and were so consumed by your emotions that you didn’t have time to over-analyze it. 

All Yuuri could remember was recalling flashes of ocean-blue eyes, and the sound of an accented voice in his memory, but somehow, he stood at the top of the podium, with a shiny gold medal around his neck.

He’d won the Japanese Nationals. After that was a series of interviews and photographs, and Yuuri felt them pass by with relative ease as his head was still in the clouds.

He couldn’t look at his phone for a depressing five hours, but when he did, it had exploded with messages. Yuuri only opened one:

Viktor <3  
  
You did it! (Trophy emoji)  
  
I can’t believe it  
  
I mean, I did so bad at the grand prix. I didn’t know if I’d recover from that.  
  
Of course you would. You’re so talented, dorogoy.  
  
The way you moved out there <3 <3  
  
I just realized that I get to see you in a couple months :)  
  
<3 I can’t wait.  
  
I...really miss you.  
  
<3 Not as much as I do.  
  
<3  
  


…

Two weeks later, Yuuri won silver at the Four Continents Championship. Jean-Jacques Leroy had an ironclad program, and his base score was several points higher than Yuuri’s. He was younger, but had that energy that came with being at the height of his career that made him outperform his competitors.

Viktor had called him a show-off over the phone with Yuuri, and said that Yuuri’s program was more artistically pleasing.

“But…” Viktor lingered on the phone.

“What?” Yuuri said. Viktor usually spoke his mind.

“Your program components underestimate you, Yuuri. Especially the Free Skate.”

“What do you mean?”

“Celestino didn’t make this program as strong as it could be. I think you could raise the base score by at least 10 points, and you’d get all of them, for sure.”

“Really?” Yuuri asked. He had never challenged Celestino’s choreography before.

“If you change the jump compositions, yeah. And move more to the back end of the program. You have the stamina.”

Yuuri was surprised that Viktor knew his program so well, but when they hung up, he did go to Celestino.

…

“This is why two ambitious people should never date, Yuuri.” Celestino had sighed, but after badgering, he had agreed to make Yuuri’s programs more difficult to rival JJ’s, and Viktor’s.

The next few weeks were spent endlessly working, training, tinkering. Yuuri had never worked so hard in his life. But, finally, his programs were redone, and Yuuri felt challenged in the best way possible. He even made Phichit take a video of his new Free Skate, so he could send it to Viktor.

He was embarrassed by his appearance, all sweaty from training incessantly, work out pants glued to him like a second skin, but he wanted to know what Viktor thought of his program now that it was redone.

He got a response a few minutes later, when Phichit had left, and Yuuri was alone in the rink.

Viktor <3   
  
I miss touching you  
  
Viktor!  
  
What? I do.  
  
You...can’t just say those things  
  
I can’t help myself when I’m thinking about you.  
  
Photo: NSFW.jpeg  
  
I’m...gonna call you.  
  


He double checked to make sure that, yep, that was indeed a picture of Viktor gripping his hard-on.

Yuuri felt his heart speed up as he dialed Viktor’s number. From the looks of his...picture, Viktor was home.

“Hello, zvezda.” His voice was already tinted with want. Yuuri made a beeline for the locker room, although he was alone, entrusted with locking up the rink that night.

“I can’t believe you just sent me that.” Yuuri said, blush covering his cheeks as he heard a small, broken noise come from Viktor. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes. I can’t help it. You were skating so beautiful, but I couldn’t stop looking at your body.”

The image of Viktor fisting his cock in bed thinking of Yuuri proved to be way too much as Yuuri felt himself slide his exercise pants and dance belt down to his knees to fist his own cock, rapidly hardening. He heard himself moan into his phone, shoved up against his ear to hear Viktor’s own noises of pleasure.

“Want to be there with you, Yuuri. Want to make you come.” He growled out into the phone.

“Fuck, Viktor. Only if I can make you come. Want you to come inside me again.” The memory of Viktor filling him up had gotten him through his lonely nights, and he wanted it again, that’s for sure.

Viktor let out a whine at that, clearly wanting the same thing. He swore in Russian, cries getting louder. “The next time I see you, I’m going to fuck you over every surface I can find. If it’s in a hotel room in Japan, so be it. You can order the room service next time, because we won’t be leaving that room for days.”

Yuuri didn’t know he was capable of making noises like he was making into the phone, as he increased the speed of his hand on his cock.

“Oh, Yuuri, I’m so close.”

“Me too.”

“Come for me?” Viktor said, and with a breathy “Yes,” Yuuri obeyed, spilling into his hand.

Yuuri listened as Viktor came apart over the phone, and then there was only the sound of heavy breath.

“I-I have to close up the rink.” Yuuri said, embarrassed.

“You’re at the rink!” Viktor was surprised.

“Yep.” Yuuri said, and before he could say anything else, the sound of laughter rang out into Yuuri’s phone.

“What.” Yuuri said, trying to calm his blush, and his breath.

“Nothing. I just- I adore you, Katsuki Yuuri.”

…

The Saitama Super Arena was comfortable to Yuuri. Home-turf advantage was very much real, and Yuuri embraced the familiarity of Japan, even though to most people so close to Tokyo, he was a bit of a country bumpkin, all the way from Hasetsu. Still, they were rooting for him, and it made it that much easier to step out onto the ice for the practice sessions in the days leading up to the Worlds. 

Mari and Minako were around, he was sure, but he would see them later. He spent all his time off the ice looking for a familiar swoop of silver hair, but Celestino kept him busy, which he thought was very intentional.

It wasn’t until the day before the competition that Yuuri finally saw him, all the way across the rink. His whole being felt lighter when they met eyes, but Celestino ran a tight ship, and he stopped Yuuri from moving a single inch.

“Don’t even think about it, Yuuri. You don’t need that kind of distraction right now.”

He sighed, but conceded. “You’re right.” 

Later, Yuuri got a text with no words but a room number from Viktor.

…

It felt like sneaking around, except half the world, and probably all of Viktor’s several million, exasperated, Instagram followers knew that they were dating. 

Yuuri crept up to the twentieth floor, to the door marked 2030, and knocked, lightly. He was swiftly pulled inside, locked in an embrace before he could say a word. They were past words.

Only kissed could convey how it felt to be in each other’s arms again. Yuuri felt a calm that he hadn’t felt since the last time they had kissed, more than four dreadful, horrible months ago. It was like seeing color for the first time.

They broke their kiss with heavy breaths, Viktor’s lips moving to suck at his neck far too high up for Yuuri’s comfort level, so he pulled him into another searing kiss, relishing in the noises of pleasure Viktor made as he was pushed up against the wall.

Yuuri’s world seemed to blur at the edges as his hands moved down, down, to feel the hard bulge of Viktor’s erection in his sweatpants, listening to his sighs as he put pressure there. He grew impatient, and shoved the sweats down until he could grip his cock, and steal moans from him, coax out pleasure until he saw white.

He didn’t stop when Viktor did the same, pulling him from his pants and briefs until they could rub against one another, moans bleeding into each other until their was a cacophony of sounds, and then there was nothing but streaks of white across formerly clean shirts, and then silence.

Viktor broke it. “Hi.”

And Yuuri laughed, and Viktor laughed, and soon Yuuri was pulled close into Viktor’s arms on a couch in the corner of his room, Viktor pressing kisses into the crown of his head.

“I missed you so much,” Viktor mumbled. “Felt wrong without you.”

Yuuri hummed in agreement.

…

The day of the competition, Yuuri had to borrow concealer from Sara Crispino, because Viktor apparently had no concept of “under the collar.”

Hickies aside, Yuuri was filled with anticipation, but this time, it was the good kind, not an omen of dread. He bounced on his skate guards in wait, filled with excited energy, rejuvenated by the taste of Viktor’s lips on his, reminded of dirty promises.

He finished the short program in a comfortable second place, behind Viktor by a few short points, and before he could even approach the other, Celestino had whisked him away for interviews, and photo ops, and before he knew it, he was eating dinner with Mari and Minako and being ordered to sleep, sadly alone, by all three members of his controlling, overbearing support system.

…

When he woke up, the demons returned to mess with him. He could feel his hands shaking, feel the eyes on him, watching, waiting for him to make a mistake. He was zoning out, watching Otabek skate absently, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Viktor. “Yuuri, are you feeling nervous?”

“A little,” he lied. A lot nervous. A great deal nervous. A metric fuckton nervous.

“It’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too. But, you need to trust in the work you’ve done to get you here, to this point.”

“Are you going to watch me?” He gulped, as Otabek took his final bows.

“Of course.”

“Then, don’t take your eyes off of me.” Yuuri said, conviction filling his veins.

“I won’t. But, Yuuri. I need you to show me your heart out there. I need to see it, in person this time.”

“Okay.” He said, and then he took to the ice.

Out there, he was so far from another person, but he could still feel Viktor’s gaze on him. And it was cold, but he was warm. 

He was in love. He thought it with such clarity that his first jump was over and landed before he could even think about it. He was in love with Viktor and it didn't matter that most of their interactions had been over a phone. It didn’t matter that Viktor was a four-time world champion, it didn’t matter that he had decorated Yuuri’s bedroom walls for the better part of a decade--none of that mattered any more.

He loved Viktor, the person, Viktor, who understood him without words, who sent him pictures of his dog wearing a raincoat because he thought it would be funny. With Viktor, who believed in him without being asked to. Viktor, who had made his Instagram a collection of things that reminded him of Yuuri.

Yuuri was in love with the Viktor that woke up at 5:00 AM every morning and was at the rink by 6:00, who wrapped bruised and battered feet in bandages, and kept going, because he was the most passionate and talented person Yuuri had ever met.

He registered the roaring of the audience, and he took his final bows, with tears in his eyes.

Celestino was smiling in the kiss and cry. Yuuri didn’t know what to do, so he waited for the final scores.

“The score for Katsuki Yuuri of Japan: 219.40 points. He is currently in first place. He has surpassed the World Record set by Viktor Nikiforov.”

Yuuri’s mouth dropped open. 

…

Yuuri beat Viktor by 0.11 points. Viktor wore a bigger smile on the second-place podium than be had ever worn on the first-place podium.

…

The rest of the day had passed in a blur of more interviews and more pictures. Yuuri’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and he felt like he looked like a fool in half of the pictures, but Viktor’s arm around his shoulders eased his anxiety about crowds until they were finally dismissed to get ready for the banquet.  
…

“Congratulations, Yuuri.” Viktor said, once they had arrived in his room.

“Thank you, Viktor.” Yuuri accepted it for what it was--Viktor wasn’t mad, like he’d feared, or even sad. He was content with losing.

“I’m coming for you next season, though.” He added, voice teasing.

“Oh, I’d hope so.” Yuuri responded, glad that they could speak so candidly now.

Well, it was now or never. He inhaled to speak:

“Viktor, I--” “Yuuri, I--” They had spoken at the same time.

“You first,” Viktor said, smiling.

“I was thinking about you the whole time I was skating. I was so happy to have found someone like you. I-I love you so much, Viktor.” Well, it was out there.

Viktor seemed to have teared up, but he was smiling. “I was going to say the same. But you’ve beat me to it, and I still don’t care. Because, I love you too, Yuuri.” Their foreheads pressed together first, and then their lips met into a kiss. They broke apart and held each other, until they absolutely had to get ready.

“I have a surprise for you, Yuuri.” Viktor said, voice mischievous. 

“What kind of surprise?” Yuuri asked, curious.

He went to his closet, and pulled out a garment bag. “I bought you a suit! I guessed the measurements a little bit, but it has to fit better than the ones you have!” He said, enthusiastically.

“Um, thanks. You didn’t have to. But thanks.” Yuuri took the garment bag and laid it flat, opening it to feel fine fabric.

“Didn’t have to? Anyone with an ass like yours deserves to wear Armani or absolutely nothing.” Viktor opened his own garment bag, revealing a similarly cut suit.

“Which would you rather see?” Yuuri asked, before he could stop himself.

Viktor turned to him and gave him a long look, up and down. “If I answer that, we won’t make it to the banquet.”

A chill went down Yuuri’s spine at that, a promise and a threat that he hoped Viktor would make good on soon.

He dressed himself in the fancy suit, with a matching silk tie, and if he was happy with his appearance, Viktor was absolutely delighted, running his hands over the curves of his body with an expert hand, before they were forced to maintain some decorum as they left for the banquet.

…

The banquet was unlike the one months prior, because Yuuri absolutely refused to drink a single drop of alcohol. He also felt Viktor’s eyes on him the whole night, like he was planning on devouring him as soon as he got the chance.

Also unlike the banquet before, he was absolutely mobbed by sponsors. He let Celestino handle it all, and moved to sit at a table with Viktor, who had found temporary peace there because of its location behind a large fake fern.

“Okay.” Said Yuuri, “We’ve been here for three hours. Let’s ditch quitely.”

“You have the best ideas.” Viktor said, grabbing him by the hand and snaking them out the door.

They made it as far as the elevator before they were drawn together again, mouths connecting with a force that seemed to still time. The wall of the elevator was cold through Yuuri’s suit jacket, but he didn’t mind, as he was getting rapidly hotter as Viktor ground his hips into his, a wicked imitation of the treatment he would be getting in hopefully not too long.

They broke their kiss for air, Viktor moving to bite new marks over old ones, still fading, as the elevator finally opened to the twentieth floor, and they stumbled and half jogged to Viktor’s door, Yuuri stealing the key card out of Viktor’s pocket, and unlocking the room for them to continue.

“Viktor, want you.” Yuuri whined out, as they both tried to undress between searing hot kisses. Eventually, they broke apart to divest themselves of clothing, piles of expensive tailoring on the floor.

“Hmm. I think I prefer you in nothing at all.” Viktor said, backing him up against the wall. And Yuuri didn’t want him to have all the control, so he flipped them around, shoving Viktor around as he dropped to his knees.

“I want this bad,” Yuuri teased, as he gripped Viktor’s cock at the base and sucked it into his mouth. Viktor’s mouth fell open, and his head made a pretty noisy thunk against the wall. Yuuri didn’t really know what he was doing, but he made up for it in eagerness, licking and sucking the shaft, fitting what he could inside, before pulling off and stroking, thumb teasing the slit mercilessly.

“Fuck, Yuuri. I need you.”

Yuuri stood up then, Viktor staring at the way Yuuri’s hand came up to wipe away spit and precome away from his mouth, obscenely.

“Where do you want me?” Yuuri asked, gazing into his eyes.

“Bed, for now. But later, well--I’ll have to leave the maids a good tip.” He smiled, wolfishly.

Yuuri crawled onto the bed, about to turn around, but Viktor kept him on his hands and knees with a touch of his hands and a curt, “Stay.”

He left briefly to get the lube out, and soon, long fingers were making their way inside of him, and he cried out, as Viktor’s fingers set an unrelenting pace, moving inside him for a long time, way longer than he needed, and he was close, so close, so close, when Viktor removed them, and turned him around.

He went to lube up his cock, and looked at Yuuri, blush decorating his fine features.

“Can you ride me?” He asked, hands stroking Yuuri’s thighs.

“Yes!” Yuuri said, way too quickly, because that was Katsuki Fantasy #45, not that Viktor needed to know that.

Before he knew it, he had crawled into Viktor’s lap, and was sinking down onto his thick, glorious cock, feeling like he was home again with Viktor inside him.  
He didn’t need much adjusting, so after a brief kiss, and Viktor’s quiet “I love you,” Yuuri rose up, only to sink back down. They continued like this until Yuuri couldn’t stand it anymore, and then Viktor began to thrust up into him, increasing their pace, seemingly fascinated with the way Yuuri’s eyes widened slightly with each powerful thrust upwards.

Eventually, Yuuri couldn’t take the intensity of their closeness, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of the drag of skin on skin, of Viktor inside of him, of their breath mingling, catching lips with lips every so often, a quiet ‘I love you’ in one language or another, and Yuuri felt tears spring in his eyes again.

It was too much and not enough, this feeling of love pouring out of him, and Viktor kissed the tears away until they tumbled back onto the bed and he had a better angle to thrust into him.

Yuuri wasn’t sure which moans belonged to him and which belonged to Viktor, but the sounds were no longer a cacophony, they were a symphony, and as the moans climaxed, so did they, Yuuri coming all over their stomachs, and Viktor finishing soundly inside him, Yuuri shivering despite being filled up with warmth.

They held each other for a while, until Viktor moved to get a towel to clean off the come and the lube from the both of them. Yuuri felt the odd sensation of come dripping down onto his thighs, but he ignored it, in favor of holding the man he loved.

Viktor yawned, and that sent them into giggles.

“I don’t want to be tired. We were supposed to have a marathon.”

Yuuri’s yawn answered his. “Well, it was a big day. We should sleep.”

He laughed a little bit at the pout on Viktor’s face. “Okay, fine. But tomorrow, we’re not going to leave this room.”

Yuuri smiled. “Deal.”

…

For what it’s worth, they didn’t leave the room for two days. They finally emerged, lust sated for now, and were only saved from being declared missing by a lucky Instagram post of them holding hands at hotel brunch.

Celestino found Yuuri around the same time Yakov found Viktor. He asked to talk to Yuuri privately. Yuuri felt like a child who had misbehaved, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Yuuri, I’m so proud of you for this season.” Celestino said, smile on his face. “It’s the final season I have always dreamed of for us.”

“Final season? I don’t understand.”

Celestino continued. “You have more seasons ahead of you, Yuuri. I think that, maybe, it’s time for you to take your life elsewhere, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Yuuri was still quite confused.

“How many more years will you skate? How many will Viktor skate? It’s no secret that skaters have limited careers. But, you’ve found something that will last far beyond your careers as skaters. I care about you so much that I’m not too proud to tell you to go, and I know Yakov will be happy to coach you.”

Yuuri felt himself getting choked up with emotion. “You do?”

“Yes. He’s the one who brought it up, actually. Viktor’s like a son to him, and well, the both of us have made sacrifices for our careers. It would bring a couple of old men some happiness to see you two together and happy.”

Yuuri felt himself rushing forward to hug Celestino, who had been his friend, coach and guardian for the past five years. “Thank you,” he said, watching as Yakov approached.

“Mister Katsuki.” Began Yakov, awkward with professionalism. “I know it seems strange, but I would be happy to accept you into my team of students. Vitya has been pining for a long time, and to see him so overjoyed again is a gift to me. You make him happy. But, regardless, I can help you with all of your jump entrances, and we need to talk about your song choices, and--”

“Yes.” Yuuri said, smiling up at the man offering to be his coach. “I will work twice as hard, since you’ve offered me a chance of a lifetime. Thank you, coach, and coach.” He said, as Viktor found them.

“What’s this?” Viktor said, smile easy.

“Vitya. Welcome our new rinkmate.” Yakov said, with not quite a smile, but something close.

“Hi,” Yuuri said, waving stupidly, only to be picked up and kissed by Viktor, who was overjoyed.

They didn’t even notice when Celestino and Yakov left them, too busy wrapped up in each other. They were two people who had found life and love on the ice, and whatever came after that.

FIN.


End file.
